


Aqun

by adepressedmeme



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Gentle touches, Lingerie, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adepressedmeme/pseuds/adepressedmeme
Summary: I've been doing more reading than writing these past few weeks. I read a lot of Qunari fics so I felt inspired enough to write a second Arishawke. It will be short but written in chapters.
Relationships: Arishok/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Arishok/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been doing more reading than writing these past few weeks. I read a lot of Qunari fics so I felt inspired enough to write a second Arishawke. It will be short but written in chapters.

The wind had picked up on the docks, carrying with it the stench of the city along with the minerals of the sea. Hawke had grown very accustomed to the smell as she often enjoyed spending free time watching the waves crash against the walls of Kirkwall. Even though she lived in Hightown, she still managed to spend most of her time awake by the water. Sometimes she thought of what it would be like to buy Isabela a ship just to get to travel the world by ocean with her. There wasn’t much keeping her in Kirkwall now anyway. Just her mother keeping her tied down. 

“Are you sure about this Hawke? It’s not too late to turn around and get a pint at the Hanged Man, on me,” Varric questioned as they stood at the large wooden gates of the Qunari compound. He was always wary of the grey giants. 

Hawke smiled softly, “We’ll be fine. It’s not often that the Arishok sends a diplomat to my door to request an audience. I told you that you didn’t need to come.” 

“And let my best friend walk into a den of strange horned men who hate mages by herself? Not a chance,” Varric replied. 

“What would I do without my trusty dwarf?” She patted his head (she was the only person allowed to do so) before they both stepped in. 

The Arishok was resting on his makeshift stone throne, looking rather bored. His face was always one of unamusement, but it looked worse now. Hawke had seen him enough times now to tell some of his foul moods apart. She stopped a few feet short of the steps and bowed her head slightly. 

“You asked for me?” She kept her eyes locked on his. 

“Serah Hawke,” her name lingered on his lips like he was tasting them, “You came.” 

She gave him a sly grin, “Of course I did. Not often I get sent big, burly half-naked men to my door.” 

His face looked less upset, “The Basra have become more pestering, how do you thrive in such filth?” 

“Oh I don’t know about thriving,” Hawke waved a dismissive hand, “Just living. Is complaining of the city’s people what you called me here for? A letter would have sufficed.” Varric visibly tensed at her jokes. 

“No,” he sighed, “I know of how you have come to make your enemies fall and it’s not by that blade you carry.” Now Hawke had tensed, she purposely didn’t carry a staff to keep her magic under wraps. “You are Basalit-an, yet saarebas. How is it you haven’t been corrupted by your magic without an Arvaarad, a watcher.” 

Hawke shrugged, “When the demons ask me for my blood I say no. It’s not that hard and I definitely don’t need someone to command me to do that.” 

He seemed pleased with that answer, “I see. I would like you to train with my men. They have weakened in their stay here. They have not battled with the Tevinters in some time. I fear once we leave this wretched place that they will struggle against their magic.” 

“So you want me to...use my magic to fight your men?” Hawke questioned. 

“Yes,” the Arishok nodded. 

“Well, I don’t see the harm in that I guess,” Hawke replied. 

“You’re joking,” Varric hissed beside her, worried about her spending any substantial time among the Qunari. 

“No. I could use the exercise,” Hawke replied to Varric before turning back to the Arishok, “I will be back tomorrow. I am not properly prepared today for training.” 

“Panahedan,” he waved them out.

“Hawke-”

“Don’t start Varric. It’ll be fine,” Hawke interrupted. 

“You say that, but you have a knack for getting into all kinds of trouble,” Varric sighed. 

“You worry too much,” Hawke gave him a short hug as they reached the Hanged Man. 

“It’s never too much when it’s about you,” he muttered as she left. 

… 

Hawke dressed in a light combat armor, one that Isabella helped her pick out. It was protective, but also clung to the soft curves of her body. The leather was made from halla leather, very soft to the touch. Merrill didn’t need to know that though so she kept it a secret. She carried with her two daggers on her side and a staff on her back. It was rare for her to use the staff. Anders always joked that she was crude for doing all her magic without it to amplify her abilities. Carrying a staff got Bethany nearly caught many a time, so Hawke learned to do without it. She missed her sister dearly. Carver too, but to a lesser extent. He was an asshole. 

Hawke was without one of her companions for the first in a long time. She had visited Anders on the way to get a few healing and lyrium potions from him. Being as protective over her as he was, he demanded she not go to the compound. Hawke was never one for demands, so she gave him the coin and left. 

“Hawke,” a Sten at the door announced her presence at the gate. 

He opened the door and nodded. The Qunari were not a people of many words. The Arishok was not on his throne this time. Another Sten met Hawke and guided her to a more open part of the compound where several dozen qunari were sparring. The Arishok was barking commands at them in Qunlat, so Hawke didn’t understand. 

She walked up to the giant of a man, even by Qunari standards. He took in her form with a sideways glance, at least two feet towering over her. Hawke may have been the oldest of her mother’s childern, but she had been the shortest. Plumpest too, but that's another story. The grief of the loss of three of her four family members tended to lead her to overeating. It was a coping mechanism she relied on since her childhood. 

“Hawke,” he nodded now, something most of the Qunari she met did, “I am glad to see you have arrived.” 

“I’m glad to be here,” she replied with a shy smile, “Who do you want me to whack first?” 

The Arishok’s lips turned ever so slightly upward, “All of them. Do not go easy. Ataas shokra, led them to struggle.” 

“Alright. Just remember you said that. I’m not responsible for any deaths here,” Hawke rolled her head and stretched her arms upward. The Arishok took notice of her breasts moving. “I haven’t pulled out my staff in some time. This will be training for the both of us.”

“Parshaara!” The Arishok bellowed to his army. 

They all stopped in unison and turned to face him. Their eyes quickly fell on the small woman beside him, her hands wrapped tightly around a staff with a sizable blade on the end that sparkled with enchantment. 

“They are yours now,” The Arishok lifted a hand to motion toward them. 

“Really?” Hawke could feel herself sweating now with sudden nerves that weren’t there moments before, “Alright. I’ll take them in groups of three.” 

The Arishok gave the command and the men formed their triplets. Hawke walked to face the first group, all three men looking at her with a hunger in their eyes that seemed to come from several types of excitement. Hawke twirled the lightweight staff and spread her feet to steady her ground. The men adjusted the grips on their blades. 

“Alright, we’re just sparring so don’t go all out on me,” Hawke’s voice didn’t waver. 

With a quick motion, she cast her staff to the ground and sent sharpened blades of ice to the men. Two of them jumped back in time but the third was impaled. A sten that had been watching carried him off the field before they continued. Hawke couldn’t see all of their faces, but it appeared from what she could that they looked more stern. Maybe they hadn’t taken her seriously. 

Another swirl of her staff and fire burst forth. Hawke was more of an elemental mage than anything else. One of the men shouted ‘Vat’ and charged through the flames. Hawke took a few steps back to create distance and sent electricity through the man’s body. He shook violently before hitting the floor. She didn’t have time to react to that though, as the third man swung his greatsword too close for comfort. Hawke didn’t have enough space to swing her staff again, so she fell back to her traditional fighting style and sent a shard of ice flying from her hand. It knocked the qunari in the chest and staggered him, giving her enough time to dislodge a large section of ground to use as a projectile. The third qunari was knocked out. 

The Arishok watched Hawke closely. They way she jumped just out of reach, how she avoided turning her back or running. She was not the best warrior he had personally seen, but her magic wielding was flawless. She could cast several spells with no need to break between them. He knew she was perfect to use to keep his men on their toes. They do not typically face women, so they were sure to underestimate her. As the day wore on, he grew more personally impressed with her abilities over the arcane arts. He was wary of all magic, of course, but she seemed to have better control than some of his best saarebas. 

“Fuck!” Hawke fell to the ground to dodge a swing that nearly took off her head. 

This was her fifth group she was facing head on and she was getting weary. She surrounded herself with a rock armor as the second swing made impact. The Arishok could hear her lose her breath. Suddenly, an immense flame exploded from her body, sending all three qunari facing her flying back a few yards. Hawke stood on uneasy feet, panting. It was clear she was injured and tired, but she didn’t want to back down. The Arishok could see it, the fire burning brighter in her eyes. It was a pleasing sight and he wished to fight her himself. 

“Alright you big grey bastards!” She shouted and pooled mana in her hands, “Have at me!” 

The Arishok smirked for once at the fight that unfolded. Hawke had tossed her staff to the ground and was fighting bare handed. He had read in his reports that she fought that way, but to see it was something else. She was hot blooded and full of rage. It was a bloodthirsty type that the Arishok knew too well. Hawke was fighting not for herself, but for the ones that died along the way. One hand cast ice while the other cast fire. His men began to scream at the impacts. Some of them had turned to solid ice and were rendered immobile.

The rules had changed without his authority. Now every man that had been waiting their turn was rushing her. The Arishok was about to bark a command to stop, but Hawke cast him a wanton grin. Her eyes glassed over and her body glimmered with magic. He watched as she quickly downed a flask of lyrium and summoned its power forth. Using a trick she learned from watching Anders lose control with Justice, she sent out a shockwave of pure force. Each man stumbled or hit the ground. With the time and space she had made for herself, she cast her hands to the sky and made it rain balls of intense flames. His men began to scatter to avoid being hit. Hawke wasn’t done through. She made the ground shake hard enough to make his men trip or have to halt their movements. It looked like his men were all done for. 

“Enough!” He shouted to Hawke. 

The earthquake stopped and the fire vanished. Hawke hit the ground, having completely exhausted herself. He made his way over to her, careful not to appear as though he was rushing or worried. The Arishok cared in his own way, but it didn’t need to be displayed. Hawke vomited, blood mixed in it. Her shaky hands grabbed a healing liquid from her belt and she sipped it until it was empty. 

“Saarbasalit-an,” he offered her a hand up that she took, “I have not seen a mage fight with such…” he struggled for the human word, “fury.” 

“Well,” she winced as he pulled her up, “I got a little carried away. I’m sorry if I really hurt someone. It’s just been so long since I-” she paused and cast her eyes to the ground, “I’m sorry.” 

“Parshaara, why do you apologise?” His tone laced with confused anger. 

“I normally keep better...control. I let my anger out and got carried away. I could have really killed-” 

“They would have deserved it if they had fallen. I do not want the weak under my command,” he held his massive palm up to her face to silence her. “Come. Let us eat.” 

Hawke didn’t argue, happy to have a meal after overdoing it like Varric and Anders told her she would. She hated when they were both right. He led her to his tent, the insides lined with pelts and furs. At the end of the room was a bed fit for a giant, three times the size of the one in her mansion. Hawke made a mental note to ask where he got it later. Lush pillows lined the bed and the floors. She wasn’t sure where to stand, taken aback by the beauty of the place. 

“Are you injured?” The Arishok asked while pouring two glasses of a spicy smelling wine. 

“Nothing I can’t heal or get healed,” Hawke replied, “I’m sure you saw that blow to the chest.” 

“I can dress it,” he handed her a glass, “Remove your armor.” 

“Excuse me?” Hawke choked on the spice and his words.

“I need to see the wound to dress it,” the Arishok replied sternly. 

“You have to see how this looks, right? Take me back to your tent, tell me to remove my clothes….” Hawke let the rest be unsaid. 

The Arishok grunted, “I cannot let you leave my compound injured. There would be many Qalaba bleating at my feet about their beloved Hawke.” 

“Beloved?” Hawke chuckled, “I think you overestimate how much people like me.” 

The Arishok gave a disapproving shake of his head and closed the distance between them in two steps. Hawke was too startled by the sudden move to brace herself for the impact she thought she was about to get. Instead, he began unbuckling her armor with surprising delicacy. It was only a few moments before her leathers were off her chest and only her thin tunic separated them. Hawke’s breath quickened and she warmed under his intense gaze. No man had dared to force her undress before, too scared or fearful of her ire. She knew she should have been mad, but really she was just incredibly turned on. 

“Why bother wearing something so thin?” He asked as he rubbed his thumb along the fabric of her belly. 

“It’s comfortable,” she flushed, “We can’t all run around shirtless.” 

“Tsk,” he slipped the thumb under the fabric and over her stomach, “Not with skin so soft. Humans are weak.” 

Hawke was having to use all her self control not to moan under him, “Ye-yeah. Me especially since I’m so fat-!” 

Her pitched raised sharply as he suddenly pulled the tunic over her head. The only thing protecting her modesty was her leather pants and breast band. Heat flushed her body quickly, her skin turning from fair to pink. She stammered and tried to slow her breathing as the Arishok brushed his fingers over the nasty bruise running down her chest. 

“You are not fattened like some Dathras,” his claws scratched her skin lightly and caused it to pebble, “Extra flesh can protect you.” 

“I guess so,” Hawke gasped as he reached to untie her breast band, “Wait!” She put her hands on his arms in a failed attempt to push him off, “That’s too far!” In truth, part of her wanted him to rip it off and take her. 

He frowned, “You humans are so sensitive. I am not looking at you as a mate, but a warrior.” He kept his hands behind her. 

Hawke cast her eyes to the ground and removed her hands from his heavily muscled arms, giving him permission to remove it. The Arishok untied it in one motion, her heavy breasts dropping down low. True to his word, he didn’t stare at her like a piece of meat. Hawke still could feel herself growing impossibly hotter. 

“There is no cut,” he sounded pleased with that, “I have a salve that-” 

“No, it’s okay. Look,” Hawke pressed a hand to her chest and let what little mana she regained flow into her. The bruise was lessening but the Arishok wasn’t pleased. 

“Parshaara,” he pushed her hand away, “You’re not healed enough for that.” He wasn’t wrong. “Use this.” 

Hawke watched, doe eyed, as he scooped some of the mystery salve on his knuckle and rubbed it on her. He was careful not to brush up against her breasts unless he had to. The medicine wasn’t like something she had seen Anders use. It started growing very hot as it was rubbed in, before becoming very cool as he stopped. It was a numbing effect that left Hawke unable to feel the pain of the injury. Her body reacted well to that, her hair standing on end and her nipples perking. The Arishok gave her a quick, curious glance before handing her the tunic he had placed on the floor. 

“The mark will be gone in two days,” he remarked. 

“Thank you, Arishok,” Hawke replied, feeling a familiar but long forgotten dampness spread in her underthings. 

“Come. I have some food here,” he motioned for her to sit on one of the big down pillows. 

Hawke did as he wanted, very aware of how every feeling she had was heightened. The Arishok sat across from her with a plate of spiced, dried meats and some bread. The Qunari did seem to love their seasonings. Hawke stuck mostly to the bread, scared to taste the meat after nearly dying on the wine. 

“You fought bravely,” the Arishok spoke between bites, “I have no doubt you might prove a challenge for me.” 

Hawke raised a brow, “You’re saying you think you can take me one-on-one?” 

“I have no doubt,” he puffed up his chest, “You are strong, but I am stronger.” 

“You think your blade could handle me throwing literally every element against you?” She crossed her arms defiantly. 

“You think your magic will help you when I cut you in half?” The Arishok crossed his own broad arms. 

Hawke pushed, feeling heated in new ways now, “I think you want to fight me.” 

“You may receive the honor to die on my blade one day,” he took a sip of his wine. 

Hawke laughed, “If that’s the only thing you plan on sticking me with.” The words were out before she could filter them. 

The Arishok’s face was one of surprise, but it only lasted a second before it returned to its normal stoicism. Hawke felt foolish, knowing that she probably shouldn’t tease Arishok like she would one of her friends. 

“You surprise me twice today Hawke,” he returned his attention back to his food. 

“Sorry, I was just joking. I think one of my companions has rubbed off on me too much,” Hawke laughed awkwardly. 

“I see,” he glanced up and down her frame, contemplating what she had suggested. 

“I think I should be going now,” she stood too quickly and stumbled over onto him. 

The Arishok grabbed her waist in both hands, making her feel skinnier than she ever had in her whole life. Hawke had unconsciously grabbed his impressive horns in her stumble, putting her loose breasts at face level. Stunned, she didn’t move, frozen in place. The Arishok rumbled under her, laughing. She had never heard a Qunari laugh before. Gently, he pushed her from him and let her steady herself on her own feet. 

"Alright. Definitely leaving now. Just ah, send another Sten if you need me," she quickly turned and left before the Arishok could reply.


	2. Late Night Calls

Hawke spent the next several days stewing in her own embarrassment, wondering if it could actually kill her. She didn't leave her mansion, barely coming out of her room. She got visits from Fenris, Anders, Varric, and Merrill. Hawke didn't spend a lot of time with them, worried that they would pry into what had happened in the compound. It worried her friends, but they knew that Hawke wouldn't put them out without good reason. 

Her mother enjoyed having her around though. She had become very clingy to her last surviving child after eventually forgiving her for Carver's death. Hawke carried the weight of everyone's death on her shoulders. The survivor's guilt was eating her slowly, but surely. 

After telling her mother she wouldn't have dinner with the available noble next door for the fifteenth time, she retired to her study. There were several books she wanted to catch up on, but just as she sat down to read there was a loud banging on their main door. She jumped up and made haste with a dagger in her hand. There was no telling who would be calling at this late hour. Everyone else in the mansion was asleep. 

Hawke peaked through the peephole, getting greeted by a broad grey chest. She put the dagger on the belt of her robe and swung the heavy metal door open. It was a Sten, based on his Vitaar. She craned her neck to look up at him. 

"Hawke. The Arishok requests your presence," he stated bluntly. 

"At this hour?" She questioned. He nodded. "Alright. Step in and give me a minute to change."

Hawke sidestepped to let the Qunari in. He looked around the hallway as she left him, hoping that no one would wake up. She dressed quickly in a simple robed dress and the most comfortable fur lined shoes she had. Hawke didn't feel like taking the time to strap into armor, not wanting her mom to stir up and have a heart attack thinking they were being invaded. 

She slipped a hastily scribbled note under her bedroom door before slipping on a coat and heading out with the Sten. He offered no words as he escorted her to the compound. It was cold out, so Hawke clung tightly to her coat. 

…

Hawke looked around the compound, taking note of the location of every guard. She wasn’t too concerned about needing to escape, but it was a habit that was hard learned and even harder to break when you constantly run into danger. The Sten walked her to the Arishok’s tent and opened the flap for her. 

“Shanedan, Hawke,” the Arishok sat on the edge of his bed, surprisingly not wearing a shirt although it was a cold night. 

“Arishok,” she bowed her head slightly to show respect, “You called for me?” 

“Yes. I thought more on what you said before. You left before I gave you a full response,” he eyed her form, having never seen Hawke in a dress before. He didn’t know she even owned such things. 

Hawke blushed, “Oh that was just a little joke.” 

“Yet your body betrayed you,” he stood from the bed and moved ever closer to her. 

Hawke tried to look anywhere but his hulking form closing in on her. He brought a claw to her chin to lift her face toward him. His intense grey eyes borrowed into her soft blue ones. Her heart hammered in her chest. 

“I did not expect you to come wearing something so…” he struggled for the human word, “Are you trying to tempt me, basalit-an?” 

“Tempt-no,” Hawke felt herself flushing again, “I wanted to get her quickly so I just threw it on. I assumed you had an urgent matter to call me so late.” 

“I see,” he removed his claw, “There is a group of my men who have gone missing. They did not return to their posts tonight.” 

“You want me to find them?” Hawke questioned. 

“Yes. I believe your Chantry is involved,” he answered. 

“It’s not my Chantry,” she waved, “Andrastianism is not my taste.” 

Arishok quirked a brow, “Surprising.” 

“That’s me. Full of surprises,” Hawke laughed awkwardly, “I’ll look around for traces of your men. If there is foul-play with the Chantry, I will inform you.” 

Hawke turned to leave but the Arishok’s hand reached around her waist to stop her in her tracks. Her knees felt like jelly as he pulled her into him slowly .

“Stay,” she wasn’t sure if he was asking or commanding. 

“What for?” Hawke’s mouth felt dry. 

“You need a Tamassran. I am not one, but I can offer relief,” his voice shook her to her core. Hawke didn’t know what a tamassran was, but she got the idea of what he meant. “When is the last time you have mated?” 

“I-” she stammered and felt her sex grow damp, “I’m not sure. It has been a while.” 

He grunted in reply, “Then you do need relief.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say I  _ need _ it-” 

“Your arousal says otherwise. It is natural to have urges that need meeting. I allow my men to go to your Blooming Rose when they need...healing,” he cut her off. 

“Healing is it?” Hawke felt her face flush. 

“Yes. It is part of taking care of the body,” he talked as though this wasn’t a sensitive topic for humans, “If you find me unsuitable, I can bring in another qunari or one of the elven Viddathari. There are many here that would find satisfaction in mating with you.” 

Hawke felt like she was imagining things, “So it’s something that is talked about?” The Arishok grunted in affirmation. “Great. I-I...” 

“You hesitate,” the Arishok commented. 

“I suppose I do. I find the idea of  _ coupling  _ with you...desirable, but I am afraid as to how that would work,” Hawke admitted. 

The Arishok turned her to face him, “You are not fragile like most bas. I will fit after some preparation.” 

Hawke definitely grew three shades brighter at the idea. The Arishok’s grip tightened for a moment, before he released her completely. His eyes searched her for permission, but found Hawke equally afraid as she was aroused. 

“Think on it,” he said plainly, then let her take her leave. 


	3. Practice

_ Damn, damn, damn, damn. _ Hawke cursed in her mind as the same Sten who fetched her made sure to see her home safe. She was thankful, as she was without her armor and weapons. Her mother was up when she entered the main hall, having done her best to close the mansion door as silently as possible. 

“Really, daughter?” she crossed her arms but her eyes showed her surprise to see her daughter in a dress, “Wandering Kirkwall at night in a gown? Maker, I haven’t seen you in one of those in years.” 

Hawke shrugged, “Late night call. Couldn’t wait.” 

“A suitor I don’t know about?” she raised a brow. 

Hawke choked on air, “I-no. Qunari business.” 

“Ah. I don’t like you hanging around those….men,” the words sounded sour. 

“They aren’t so bad,” Hawke started to assend the stairs, “I’ll be out for most of the next few days. People missing, Sisters suspected, the usual.” 

“Maker’s breath-” 

Hawke didn’t hear the rest as she shut her bedroom door. Her mabari perked up from his place at the foot of her bed, rushing over to slobber her with affection. She quickly stripped from her dress, her body still hot from where the Arishok touched her.  _ Was she really considering this? Had it been so long that she would spread her legs for an ox-man?  _

Rest found her easier than expected after she took to pleasuring herself. She thought of nothing but the Arishok. His large body crushing hers, just barely able to breath from under him. Her hands stroked her labia and clit before dipping into her sex. She stretched her fingers as wide as she could, imagining how girthy the Arishok must be. When she finished it was hard and her mabari was sound asleep at her feet. 

… 

“So the Arishok calls you in the middle of the night saying his people are missing and blaming the Chantry,” Varric started as they walked to the Chantry, “and now we’re investigating?” 

“Yep,” Hawke mussed to herself about the ridiculousness of her life. 

“Alright. Just checking to make sure I’m not blighted and that this is actually happening,” he tossed his hands up. 

“Why are we doing favors for the Arishok?” Anders asked. 

“Because I have nothing better to drag you three out to do,” Hawke teased. 

“It is an honor to be called upon by the Arishok,” Fenris countered to her other two companions. 

“The Arishok  **_hates_ ** mages. It doesn’t make sense that he would want Hawke’s help,” Anders replied sternly. 

“Hawke is not like other mages,” Fenris snipped sharply, “She has earned his respect.” 

“Oh, so Hawke is good but mages like me deserve to be bound like monsters?” Justice’s voice rang out from Anders. 

“Hey you two,” Hawke turned on her heel sharply, “play nice. I’m helping the Arishok because I  _ feel _ like it. If the Chantry is up to something and about to start a civil war, then I need to do what I can to prevent it and keep Kirkwall safe. Now both of you shut up.” 

Neither man argued with their fearless leader. Varric smirked at her ability to quiet the two hotheads. No one but his best friend could manage such a thing. They entered the Chantry and spoke to a few Sisters and Mothers, finding no evidence of foul play. Hawke wasn’t convinced though, bringing her party to Darktown for answers. 

… 

“Ah fuck,” Hawke muttered at the dead bodies of humans and qunari alike. 

“What should we tell the big man?” Varric asked, grimacing at the torture wounds of the giants. 

“The truth. There is no sense in lying. The viscount will need to know also. This happened under  _ his _ watch,” Hawke sighed. 

“Are you saying it’s his fault?” Varric questioned. 

“No, but it is his responsibility. The qunari are guests of Kirkwall still,” Hawke crouched down to find any incriminating evidence on the human leader of this fanatic group. 

“I’ll go send word for the Viscount. You three just stay here out of trouble,” and with that Varric left them. 

“We could burn the bodies to hide the torture,” Anders suggested. 

“No point. The Arishok would find out,” Hawke took a set between two of the dead qunari bodies, her hand running over their faces to close their eyes, “Bastards. They didn’t deserve this. They haven’t done anything wrong here.” 

“Humans are fearful Hawke,” Fenris replied, “Not like you.” 

“Thanks,” Hawke responded, “For all the good it does me.” 

…

“Shanedan Hawke,” The Arishok gestured with an open hand to her arrival. 

“Arishok,” she bowed her head in respect, “I have found your men in Darktown. It was not the Chantry that was involved, but a group of Qunari hating fanatics that tortured and killed your men. I’m sorry that I could not stop them in time.” 

“I will send a group to retrieve them,” The Arishok grumbled and shifted in his throne, “Thank you Hawke.” 

“Anytime,” she nodded her head down again. 

There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again, “Have you considered my offer?” 

Hawke could feel her three companions staring at her like she grew a second head, “I-I don’t think this is an appropriate time, Arishok.” 

“Hm. Your companions, yes?” He snapped his fingers and two sten moved in on them, “They can be removed.” 

“What?” Anders’ hands lit up in defense. 

“What’s going on Hawke?” Varric gripped Bianca. 

“No Arishok. I-I will return later to discuss. For now I owe my companions food and drink for their help,” Hawke could feel her face flush. 

“Very well,” the Arishok stood to leave, “Panahedan, basalit-an.” 

… 

They made it back to Varric’s room in the Hanged man before anyone spoke on what happened in the compound. Hawke had already ordered rounds of ale for everyone and just sat down on her usual seat when Varric spoke. 

“Alright Hawke, what was that?” He questioned. 

Hawke replied with a sigh, “I really don’t want to talk about it.” 

“It seemed important, Hawke,” Fenris said from over his tankard. 

“He seemed very willing to remove us from your company,” Anders added. 

“It’s really nothing you’d want to know,” Hawke buried her face into her drink, “The Arishok expressed some...personal worry for me. I hadn’t given him an answer yet.” 

Fenris raised a brow but it was Anders who spoke, “And what personal worry would this be? Worried your mouth isn’t sewn shut?” 

“He’s- Maker’s balls this is awkward- he’s worried about my...sexual health,” Hawke admitted. Everyone at the table went white. “It’s weird, but normal for Qunari. He could tell it’s...been a while for me.” 

“How long is a while?” Fenris asked. 

“Not since Carver-” Hawke cut herself off, choking on the memory of cutting her own brother’s throat over a year ago. 

“The Arishok wishes to provide you with healing. It is another honor but…” Fenris contemplated his next words, “Dangerous between himself and you.” 

“You aren’t seriously considering this!” Anders slammed a hand on the table, “If you need a fix, surely there are others more willing and less giant.” 

“Blondie’s right Hawke,” Varric’s tone was serious, “I could find more than a hundred men or women willing in the next hour.” 

“Only if it’s you, my handsome dwarf,” Hawke brushed a hand over his shoulder. 

“Not a chance, Chuckles,” His smile was short lived, “Seriously though. Maybe it’s not a good idea to sleep with the leader of the grey giants. He looks like he’d rip you in half.” 

Hawke let out a dirty snort, “Don’t try and talk me into it Varric.” 

“Hawke,” Fenris’ voice cut through the tension in the air, “A word?” Hawke stood, following Fenris into Varric’s backroom. “Hawke, if you need a release I-” Fenris struggled, “I would be willing.” 

“You needed me alone to say you want to fuck me?” Hawke grinned. 

“No. I needed you alone to ask if the Arishok has...touched you. Unwantedly,” The concern was plain on his pretty features. 

“No. He held me still but he didn’t force himself on me,” Hawke replied, “I assure you, no man will force me and keep his prick.” 

Fenris laughed a little at that, “Just. Be careful Hawke. I would rather you tumble with Anders before you let yourself get hurt by the Arishok. He is  **not** the gentle type.” 

“I appreciate your concern Fenris, but I’m a big girl,” Hawke put her hands on her hips, “I can handle myself.” 

Fenris grunted but did not challenge her. He watched her walk back to the others, his eyes lingering on her full hips. The past few years since they met, after getting over her magic, he had yearned for her. Fenris had no illusions though that Hawke had never shown interest in any of her companions. Even her flirting with Varric was platonic. 

… 

Hawke stood before the gate of the compound, her hand clutching her fur cloak tightly.  _ Curse these blasted cold nights. _ The Sten nodded to her and opened the gate, needing not hear her reason for being there. Hawke stepped through the compound to his tent, stopping just short to catch her breath. What the hell was she doing here? 

“You came,” the Arishok’s deep voice rung in the air and sent shivers straight to her loins. 

“I did. I needed to give you your answer,” Hawke took a few steps into the tent to gather his attention. 

He watched her intently, his gaze never wavering from her. Hawke took another deep breath, before unclasping her thick cloak to reveal an elaborate series of lingerie on her body. The Arishok took a visible inhale, his nostrils flaring and his eyes wandering across her body. Hawke suddenly felt very self conscious. 

“I hope you find this pleasing,” she said as she stepped away from the cloak bunched by her feet, “my friend helped me pick this out.” 

“It is...pleasing,” the Arishok kept his eyes hot on her, but did not move yet. 

Hawke sashayed her way over to his half naked form, conveniently on the edge of his bed. Her underthings consisted of a series of black leather straps that criss crossed her body, emphasizing the corset she wore along with her thigh high stockings. She even wore heels, something she thought she would break her neck in on the way over. 

Hawke paused as she was now standing between his open legs, her eyes wandering to the well endowed member of his that was engorged with blood already. The Arishok hovered his hand just at her waist before pausing for permission. Hawke nodded and leaned herself into his touch. 

“You are soft,” his voice shook her to her core. 

“Are your qunari women not?” Hawke asked, her head feeling light from his surprisingly gentle touches. 

“Not like you,” he gripped Hawke by the waist and laid her out on the bed. Hawke was panting, excited and deliciously scared at the same time. The Arishok took notice, “I will not be claiming you fully today. We must...work up to that, if it is what you wish.” 

Hawke nodded, licking her suddenly dry lips. The Arishok pulled off her underwear and began kissing her inner thighs. Hawke arched her back off of the plush bed as his inhumanly long tongue found her dripping slit. He licked her labia fully before lapping at her clit. His tongue wasn’t just long, but wide with a slightly rough texture that produced more friction than pervious lovers’. 

“You taste sweet,” he rumbled from under her. 

“I’m glad you approve-oh Maker’s balls,” Hawke chuckled then cursed suddenly as he hilted his tongue into her entrance. 

Hawke’s hands found his horns, tugging on them to encourage him to keep up his assault. She had never cum from just head before but this was proving to be a first time. The Arishok left no centimeter unexplored as her leaned in deeper and stroked parts of her that some men she’d been with couldn’t reach with their cock. 

“Oh-oh Arishok right- fuck-” she stuttered as he curled his tongue upwards and rubbed her clit with a rough knuckle. 

He did not speak, only quickened his pace until he felt her walls clamp down around him and felt her juices rush out over his tongue. He swallowed them, curious as to how a human would taste. Hawke was sweet, the qunari women he had eaten out before had been slightly spicy. 

“I-” Hawke’s legs tightened around his head, “I can’t take anymore.” 

The Arishok rose and brushed his mouth with the back of his hand, “You are sensitive.” 

“Apparently,” she laughed softly. 

“You will need practice before you can take me,” he gestured to an  **_enormous_ ** erection, easily 10 inches long. 

“Holy shit,” Hawke took a hard swallow, “How does  _ that _ fit in anyone?” 

He smirked for the first time she’d seen, “It doesn’t.” 

“Right,” Hawke stood on unsteady legs and put her cloak back on, “I guess I’ll come back later this week for...practice?” 

“If that is what you wish,” the Arishok turned from her and poured himself some of that strong-smelling wine. 

Hawke made it back to her estate, breathless from her encounter. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about anyone else, but I'd let the Arishok force that much in me

**Author's Note:**

> Got to love some Qunari Icy-Hot. 
> 
> *Saarbasalit-an: a combination of dangerous and worthy one that I made up*


End file.
